Pas de Cheval
by copperpots'n'pans
Summary: They gave him a medal for killing someone, but just a few short months later, they gave him a pink slip for falling in love. It wasn't Dean's fault that the ballet man was so understanding of his faults; just as it wasn't Cas' fault that the soldier was so lovable.


**So here I am again. I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this or not. It all depends on whether or not people are actually interested in reading it.**

**Yeah, I don't own Supernatural, but I wish I did.**

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Dean dropped his duffel bag on the ground with a huff. It felt good to be on American soil again. He could taste the sunshine for the first time in ages, and the birds were like nothing he had ever heard, despite the fact that he was only gone for a little over a year.

"You got plans for tonight?" his friend Garth asked. They had been together since the beginning.

"Yeah, man. My brother's girlfriend is performing tonight; she's a ballerina, I told them I'd go. I think we're going out to eat later." Dean paused. "What about you?"

"Probably just dinner with my parents. I think I'm really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed."

Dean nodded his head in understanding. None of them had seen their families, or their beds, in a while. It would be fantastic to not worry about five am wake up calls for an entire night.

A blue car pulled up; through the window, Dean could see Sam cramped into the little, compact vehicle.

"That's me, Garth. I'll call you sometime."

"Sounds good." Garth said, pulling him in for a half-hug. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." Dean returned. He motioned for Sam to pop the trunk, and threw his bag into the back.

He climbed into the air-conditioned car, breathing in the cool air. "Hey Sammy."

"Hey Deanie. I—uh woulda gotten out but its hell getting in this thing." Sam chuckled.

"I can imagine. Where's your truck at?" The last time Dean had gotten leave, he couldn't get Sam to shut up about his precious truck and all that it could do.

"It broke down, so I took it to the shop. This is Jess' car."

They rode in silence for a while, almost as if Sam was afraid to ask him questions. The radio was on, and upon further inspection, Dean realized that American Pie was playing.

"Are you sure you want to go see Jess' ballet thing? 'Cause she won't mind if you don't." Sam assured him.

"Nah, its fine. I don't have anything better to do, and even if I did, I wanna get to know Jess. I have a feeling she's going to be permanent." Dean stated, simply. Sam looked over in surprise; Dean had never taken interest in his girlfriends.

"Thanks, man." Sam tapped on the steering wheel to the beat for a while before speaking again. "So—uh—are you going to have to go back soon?" Sam's voice was hesitant as he asked; as if he was afraid of the answer.

Dean winced at Sam's tone. He had never meant to put his family through this, he was just doing what he had thought was right. Which apparently, wasn't the best choice.

"I don't think so, Sammy, I mean I've served two tours, it's my choice whether or not I go back out."

"Are you planning on going back?"

Dean smiled as he replied, "Nope. You're stuck with me, little brother. At least for a little while. I'll try and find an apartment soon."

"Good, I'm glad you're home. And Dean…?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

Sam sheepishly smiled, "I might have that apartment thing taken care of. The place I live now has an open room. It's just me and another guy, you'll meet him tonight, but if you want, the room's yours."

"Sounds good to me. So tell me about Jess." Dean prodded. He wanted to know some about the girl before he met her officially.

"She's great. She's funny and she's pretty. She smells like flowers and sunshine and she has the prettiest voice. She's also really nice; she volunteers at a school a few times a week. And—uh—she's really talented. She got the lead in _The Swan Princess_, she's majoring in Classical Ballet. She graduates next year. I love her." Sam finished simply.

"I can tell. I'm happy for you." Dean glanced out the window, glad that Sam couldn't see his face. He had always wanted the whole white picket fence, 2.5 kids thing, but now it seemed less like a possibility and more like a fantasy.

The remainder of the ride was spent in silence. It wasn't long before Sam pulled into a parking lot and shut off the car. They got out of the car, and Dean grabbed his bag. Sam ushered him towards a brown, brick building that looked like it had seen better days, all the while, trying to sell Dean on the building.

Apparently the heating and air both worked well, and most of the appliances worked. The neighbors were quiet and minded their business. It was relatively cheap, and the rodent infestation was nonexistent.

Inside, they trekked up three flights of stairs and into a dimly lit hall with peeling paint. Sam unlocked door 17G and led him into the apartment. It was surprisingly homely inside.

"It's not much, but I like it." Sam explained. "If you want, this would be your room." Dean walked into the room that Sam was pointing to. There was a bed against one wall and a chest of drawers against the other. The window in the room overlooked a side street.

"Yeah, if the other guy staying here doesn't mind, I'll stay here."

"Oh, Castiel won't mind. He's hardly ever here; he's a ballet performer, like Jess, so he practices a lot."

Dean took the information in while putting his duffel bag on the bed. He mentally made a note of all the things he would have to buy.

"Is there a Wal-Mart around here?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, do you wanna go?"

"Maybe tomorrow or something. I think I'm going to take a shower."

Sam gestured to the bathroom with a have at it motion and left Dean to his own devices. Dean grabbed some underwear and a tank top and headed into the shower.

He twisted the shower knob to the far left, making the water piping hot. He relished the way the hot water and steam surrounded him, nearly taking his breath away. He slowly shampooed his hair, taking his time for the first time in ages. Dean sighed as the hot water kneaded his sore muscles.

All too soon, however, the water turned frigid, and Dean briskly toweled before dressing.

"Hey Sam?" he called. "What should I wear to this ballet thing?" He could hear some banging around in the kitchen, the noise of pots and pans colliding, before Sam answered.

"Dress pants and a button down's what I'm wearing."

"'Kay, thanks." Dean shuffled into his new room and dug through his bag until he found his one pair of black dress pants. He never really had the need for anything other than his uniform and the occasional pair of jeans.

Upon digging some more, he found a white button down that wasn't wrinkled too badly. He shrugged as he put it on. Oh well, it's not like they were going to a five star restaurant after the recital, at least he hoped not.

He plopped down on the couch while Sam got ready, surfing through the TV channels. He had only gone through a few channels before finding Dr. Sexy MD.

"You still like that?" Sam chuckled and Dean grinned in return. He had always told Sam he liked the drama on the show, but if he was truthful with himself, it was because Dr. Sexy was, well, sexy.

Dean didn't answer verbally, but instead changed the subject. "Are you ready to leave?"

Sam toned that he was; after locking up the apartment, they headed out to the car.

"I'll get you a key made tomorrow." Sam told him, as he tried to fold himself into the tiny car. It was comical, seeing six foot four Sam try to fit into a compact car. "Stop laughing." he gritted out.

The ride was relatively short, with few stops before they made it to the local theatre.

"I know ballet's not really your thing, but it means a lot to Jess that you're here." Sam admitted quietly while they paid for their tickets. Dean suspected that it didn't just mean a lot to Jess but to Sam as well. Giving her a chance was the least Dean supposed he could do.

They sat close to the front in plush blue chairs that made Dean itch. The velvety material reminded him of bugs. The two sat in silence with the whispers of others to keep them company until the production started.

The director or whoever came out and made a big fancy speech about hard work that was met with obligatory claps from the eldest Winchester. He really started paying attention when the curtains parted, and the recital started.

Sam pointed out Jess as the girl in the pale blue outfit, but Dean was more focused on a male dancer whose place on the stage was a little to the left and about halfway back.

The man moved with grace that Dean, beforehand, would've said was impossible. His limbs moved as he leaped and twirled in a way that made Dean's heart pound.

Dean became so entranced by the man; he was startled when the crowd broke out into applause. "Is it over, already?" he asked with the disappointment clear in his voice.

"No; it's a half-time of sorts. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Jess is—uh real talented. You did good Sammy." he told Sam, despite the fact that he had only glanced at Jess once during the performance.

"Thanks, Deanie, Jess is gonna love you; I'm sure of it." Sam looked happier than Dean had seen in a while. Dean excused himself to the restroom, and once there, stared himself down in the mirror. The three years in Iraq had changed him; his blonde hair was buzzed and the hard angles of his cheekbones jutted out. He splashed cold water on his face. _Get it together Winchester_, he told himself. He hadn't been this affected by anyone since he was in high school.

When he heard someone else enter the bathroom, he took his leave and returned to the unoccupied seat next to his brother. He had barely sat down when the lights dimmed and the curtains parted, preventing Sam from asking him questions.

Dean quickly scanned his eyes through those on stage, until he sought out the same male dancer from before. This time the man was wearing skin tight black leggings and what appeared to be a skin colored shirt.

The man turned his head, and Dean jumped in surprise, as the man looked straight at him for a moment, before slightly smiling. Dean's heart raced as he saw the man's bright, clear blue eyes on him.

The longer they held eye contact, the tighter Dean felt his already semi-tight pants get. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You okay?" Sam asked in concern, probably worried that it was too much stress on him.

"Itchy chairs." he muttered back, ducking his head down, and finally breaking eye contact. When he glanced back up, the man wasn't on stage any longer. Dean supposed it was for the best; the man was probably straight, and even if he wasn't, he certainly didn't deserve to deal with the mess that was Dean Winchester.

For the remainder of the show, Dean spent his time divided between actually paying attention and willing away his not so little problem. By the time the show was over and they were standing to applaud, Dean was confident that he had himself under control.

"We just going to hand here until Jess gets showered and changed." Dean nodded to show that he had heard his brother and moved out of the way for the people exiting their row.

He was looking forward to dinner, and to shaking off the man from earlier. They had only waited for a few minutes when Jess came flouncing out of a side door.

"Dean, it's so nice to finally meet you!" her voice was soft and lilting, but her grasp was surprisingly strong as she hugged him. Dean gently patted her back in an awkward manner.

"It's nice to meet you too. I've heard a lot about you." he offered.

"All good, I hope." she giggled as she playfully pinched Sam's arm.

They made a truly odd couple; she was five-two tops and Sam was like six-four. But at the same time, they looked great together.

"Yeah, all good. Your performance was great." he told her.

"Oh, aren't you sweet?" she said while simultaneously pulling Sam down to whisper into his ear. Sam shrugged at whatever she was saying, his eyes darting to the stage and then to Dean.

"Dean," Jess began in a sugary sweet voice, "would you mind terribly if we added one more for dinner?"

"I don't guess so." Dean shrugged; he just wanted to eat.

"Great!" she exclaimed, while clapping her hands together. "I would just feel awful if Castiel sat at home by himself. Besides, it'll give you a chance to get to know each other."

Before either brother could respond, Jess had run off and returned, dragging a man who seemed awfully familiar to Dean. The man was wearing dark jeans and a t-shirt; he had almost black hair, and pale white skin.

"Dean, this is Castiel. Castiel, Dean." Jess introduced.

Dean stuck out his hand in offering, and the man suddenly looked up, his bright blue eyes piercing into Dean.

"Nice to meet you." Castiel said, his voice rolling over Dean like honey and rootbeer on a hot summer day, thick and sweet but cool and refreshing all at the same time.

"You too." Dean stammered out, doubting if this situation was "nice" at all.

As they headed out to the car, Dean seriously doubted his ability to survive the night for the first time in years.

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**So what do you guys think? Constructive criticism is welcome! And suggestions on where I should go with this are welcome.**

**Have a great day/night/teatime!**


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